


Drink Fulfilled

by Nasyat



Series: Tea Ceremony [2]
Category: Cuphead (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Don’t Shame Him, Headcanon Name, I’m rare too you know, M/M, No Plot, Rare Pairings, Redeemed King Dice, Sexual Analogies, Spotted Kettle, Symbolism, Tea, Thirsting For Tea On An Entirely Different Level, or me, please, so don’t kill me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 16:05:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13744482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nasyat/pseuds/Nasyat
Summary: Well, goddammit. Where are you taking me, Mr. bobbie? I haven’t done anything!Dice quenches his unbridled desire for love and tea. Analogies and symbolism per usual





	Drink Fulfilled

**Author's Note:**

> For @itsbpdprincess on Tumblr. 
> 
> There’s no plot. Nothing is sacred, but sin can be tasteful.
> 
> ...or tasty

Elder Kettle doesn’t know how he ended up like his: filled to the brim, loose teas swelling deep within his belly, and with soft hands wandering over his body like the cool palms of a caring maid smoothing out the silken gown of her master after ironing it into pristine.

“Do you like it, honey?” He hears a whisper, mingled with hot breath on his cheek, and all Kettle can do is moan in response. It is overwhelmingly rich, pulling, and he radiates dry heat from the end of his feet to the tip of his spout.

He is left alone then, brewing for god knows how long; in reality, it hasn’t been more than ten minutes, while King Dice rushes around, up and down the stairs, innerly shaking with anticipation, but calm and meticulous on the outside. He had been fantasizing about it, dreaming, day and night. And now his darling is finally lying in their bed, eyes closed and brow knitted, smelling like wild roses and roasted almond, sweet and tantalizing, and the younger man feels like his heart is seeping through his fingertips as he caresses the searing copper.

“King, how...” the older toon rasps out, but Dice silences him with a graze on the handle.  
“Ah, my love... Am I still a King to you?”

In the other’s eyes, he sees: ‘Am I...?’

“You are still my knight, Kastor,” the former casino manager confirms, tossing off the gloves in fervor, to place his palms flat on the metallic surface. He lets his dear try that question again.

“How do you manage...”  
The heat; he knows that’s what Elder is trying to ask. “It’s a... pleasant one,” the younger man says, quietly. “Besides, I have handled worse.” He would rather not talk about that. Not now, not here, not when he is so close...

He leans in and kisses his good kettle’s mouth. He tastes like lavish collection of hints and aromas, almost too perfect already. Dice draws back and licks his lips clean.

“Can I open your lid, my knight?”

The old man shivers; it’s a yes. Dice reaches over for a bowl filled with brown sugar.

When he pours it in, Elder yelps: it must be chaining a reaction, and stinging, in a way.

“It will not... dissolve... evenly, Mr. Dice,” croaks the toon and shakes, because _oh he knows_ how you make something dissolve faster, mechanically. Dice smiles.  
“Not if I make some... _stirring_ ,” he teases, but when his darling winces, he just soothes the brim with his fingers. “Shh, I will not... do that to you...”

“...Boil for me, my love.” With those words, he sucks on the tip of the spout, dragging his fingers along the length, and Kettle glows red at the younger man’s ministrations.

He lets go with an echoing, metallic-sounding lipsmack. It’s such an obscene sound that the old man can’t help but shut his eyes tight with shame. Dice grins, thrilled, chewing on his lower lip in barely contained arousal, and dives in to lick on the extrusion - more, tasting the copper, burning his tongue, - but never giving a damn. When the infused tea rumbles with rupturing bubbles and Elder Kettle is on the verge of whistling - and begging, Dice grabs a jug with an unsteady hand and splatters its contents in. The black tea swirls, turning warm beige - almost pink in hue, and the old toon emits a breathy whine.

“Tea with milk... a truly _royal_ delight,” murmurs King Dice into his ear. The cold dairy cooled down Elder’s interior, exuded on his metal sides as condensate. It’s overflown the brink, too - running in streaks down his face, debilitatingly sweet, and the former gambler presses his lips upon those delicious streams of pure ecstasy.

It is creamy, yet a little bit tart, with almost wooden undertones, and mixed up with the other’s sweat it tastes too good to be true. Elder Kettle watches his lover as if through the haze, watches him purr and lap on the milky tea voluptuously like a hungry tomcat.

“ _How wonderful..._ ” the younger man half moans, half croons, and the other toon finally gains enough control over his own hands to lay them on that man’s sweet spot, fondle it through the fabric, stroke his slender body, if not blindly, then with blind adoration. King Dice hums, and lies on his back, allowing to be touched wherever. He lounges in those tender affections, almost meandering, seemingly even more like a cat that got the cream in this moment.

He drinks it all, greedily, - till the very last drop, holding him in his arms. Elder is glad he is not a very big kettle.


End file.
